


There's No Catharsis In My Tea Cup

by angelgazing



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-13
Updated: 2010-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:58:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelgazing/pseuds/angelgazing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus is not a morning person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's No Catharsis In My Tea Cup

Remus paused, breathed, closed his eyes against morning and the smell of bacon frying in the kitchen and the taptaptap of Sirius' spoon stirring sugar into his tea. It smelled like burnt toast and rain, the window was open to the absolute fucking cold, and Sirius was humming a song from one of Lily's many records.

There was a cigarette still smouldering in the damp air, sitting propped haphazardly against a saucer painted with pink flowers that was chipped at the corner, the smoke curling up and making the cup of lukewarm tea taste like ashes when he dared to sip it.

He paused, again, and scratched at his nose and inched down the bed a little bit, the sheets stiff and scratchy against his back. Crisp like they'd been at Hogwarts except these were an unfortunate shade of green that brought to mind things left over after his stomach revolted just before the transformation. It made him feel vaguely ill.

Sirius banged a pot—loud enough to make people blocks away look up from their Sunday morning papers, no doubt—and stopped humming only to break into actual song, mangling it beyond all recognition. Or at least beyond Remus' ability to recognise at this time of morning.

That Sirius was apparently picking today of all days to decide to become a morning person was not just a little bit disturbing.

He considered his options, very carefully, and then closed his eyes and pulled the blankets up over his head and hummed a little song Sirius himself had written called 'It's Too Bloody Early to Be Awake You Horrible Git' that, in another life, would most certainly have been a top ten hit.

"Remus," Sirius said, and poked at his shoulder with a fork through the blankets. "Get up right now. You've had your tea and your smoke and your toast that, may I add, was only vaguely burnt, and now's time for eggs and then you'll have about ten minutes to think up a reasonable excuse to not go with me."

"I don't want to," Remus told him, shortly, from the relative safety of under-the-blanket. Sirius poked his shoulder again.

"Up, you lazy wart, or you'll be cutting into your egg eating time."

Remus sat up, and glared as very best he could with his hair sticking up in twenty-seven different directions. "You're a horrible man, Black, and I may never forgive you for this."

"Alright," Sirius said, and grinned. "Now eat and drink up your tea because that will not be your excuse this week."

"A horrible, horrible man," Remus bemoaned into his ash-flavoured tea.


End file.
